


winter shenanigans

by nezstorm



Series: stealth mode ottering [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Otter Ennis, Werecreature Stiles, Wereotter Ennis, Wereotter Stiles, Winter, otter stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 19:44:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14268216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nezstorm/pseuds/nezstorm
Summary: In which Stiles is the master of belly slides, Ennis makes him into a snow angel at every turn and Peter is always there with a fondly exasperated smile and a fluffy towel.





	winter shenanigans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mysenia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysenia/gifts).



  
  


Stiles has the belly slide down to perfection. He knows exactly how much of a run up he has to do to slide just so, can calculate the speed, the distance, even the pose. He’s the picture of grace when he does it in his otter form, if he doesn't trip while running first.

 

He used to race with his family, mom and dad and Uncle Ennis, too. He would make puppy eyes at Uncle Deuc until he relented, even if Uncle Deuc always won, sliding a few inches farther than Stiles ever could. Stiles would always pout a little, too, for show if anything else, because Uncle Ennis would challenge Deucalion to a duel, giant otter versus werewolf, and both would cheat their way down the slope. 

 

Ennis always indulged Stiles, that hasn’t changed even though Stiles is an adult now, with a fiance and a wedding date, a home all his friends were helping build. 

 

Ennis has also always been a trickster and a menace, and would use the fact that he was bigger than Stiles in both his forms against him. For example by barreling into a five year old Stiles and sending him into a pile of snow, the giant otter flopping down on him without a care in the world, Stiles buried underneath and flopping about like a fish out of water.

 

Which is what Ennis has been attempting to do all day today. The whole pack is gathered at the Hale house, enjoying the snow and goofing off. They’ve already had a few snow fights, including one where they were divided into three teams and given an hour to build a fort before they were let loose on each other. 

 

Stiles, Peter and Lydia were banned from being on the same team because they’d obliterate everyone else with no regards to safety rules (Scott calls it The Snow Mayhem of 2015). So they’re given a team each and get so competitive that Scott reconsiders the ban, until Ennis arrives with John and initiates guerilla attacks on them all, not favoring Stiles at all.

 

By the end of it they’re all wet, some of them are still hiding well out of bounds of the yard and beyond reach of stray snowballs, and Stiles has been made into a snow angel.

 

He’s sprawled on his back, hat half-off his head from whipping about and falling victim to a few headshots, he’s both overheating and cooling rapidly where he’s mostly buried in a pile of snow. Ennis has the gall to lounge on him, like Stiles is a flaily pillow and the ground is the most comfortable of all couches.

 

“I hate you so much,” Stiles wheezes out, though they both know he’s exaggerating. For all that Ennis loves to torment Stiles a little, he’d never hurt him in any way.

 

“You’re such a poor liar, kid, I thought I taught you better,” Ennis laughs, but he finally gets up and bodily hauls Stiles off the ground.

 

Stiles shakes off the snow, and then shakes out off his wet clothes, chirping at Ennis in challenge as he runs towards a slight snow slope off to the side of the property (Peter, Boyd and Derek piled all of the excess snow there over the last week making it a perfect sliding spot).

 

Stiles doesn’t have to look back to know Ennis is following him, the rambunctious laughter and the thump of Ennis’ paws on the ground a dead giveaway. 

 

Stiles takes great pleasure in beating Ennis on the slope every time, even if he’s left wet and shivering afterwards. Mostly because he has Peter to help him fix that problem.

 

The werewolf is waiting from him at the porch once Stiles is done racing, Stiles clothes picked up and probably already hung up to dry. He has one eyebrow arched, but he’s smiling when Stiles stands on his hindpaws and makes grabby hands for him. 

 

“So demanding,” Peter accuses, but he unfolds the towel he’s been holding and wraps it around Stiles before picking him up, carrying him into the house. 

 

Peter plops down into the loveseat in the living room, the rest of the pack around them drinking hot cocoa and piled under blankets, and sets Stiles in his lap to help him dry off.

 

“Do you want to shift?” Peter offers once Stiles is mostly dry, “ I’ve got a change of clothes for you in my bag.”

 

Stiles considers it for a moment, but he’s so warm and comfortable now, wrapped in the towel and held against Peter’s chest. He shakes his head and reaches up enough to touch his nose to Peter’s in thanks. He’s perfectly content where he is.

 


End file.
